THE LADY OF EVERSTILL
by JeremyOrzhov
Summary: It is a story of the life a woman known by many names but commonly referred to as Elhena, the lady of Everstill. Detailed accounts and folklore found in many parts mix to form her true essence and retell accounts of her life, deeds, bravery, misfortune and love; for she is a saint to some and a criminal to others but nonetheless a remarkable woman whose heart guided her instincts.


Inside a bristling tavern, people came and went like it was the last day on earth. Not too shabby to be considered of ill repute but broken down and quite dirty enough not to be the first choice of many for a drink. Wooden columns and a moldy staircase at the back end housed, for today, a host of colorful characters from all around. Some had traveled far and needed a pint after a day's work; others simply made it their habit to end the day in the same old tavern. Most of the noise and bustle came from a center table with many soldiers from the town's barracks chanting a popular folk song after a couple of rounds of cheap ale; pretty much the only drink a soldier in this town could afford. A tavern wench brought the last of their pints and hurried away before half-drunk footmen got a little too grabby.

On another table, two dwarves were giving the final touches to a hand-sized trinket which had a dim glow and that some more close-minded villagers would not have dared to touch, and contrary to the other table, this one was neat and organized. These tinkerers were so dedicated, that when one of them received the bowl of stew, he set it gently aside and continued working. "Eat it before it gets cold, what comes out o' the kitchen doesn't come back. Words from the owner" said the woman after putting the plate down but the dwarves simply waved her aside without as much as a look. "You can eat your trinkets for all I care" she said before leaving with her feelings chipped. She may be a tavern wench but she had her pride.

After having completed her round of deliveries, the wench head back to the bar to pick a new round of orderlies but in a place as busy as this one it proved to be quite hazardous. Before arriving to the counter she had almost tripped over a mage's carelessly laid staff, squeezed past behind a skulking orc and his massive armor and avoided several attempts of bottom pinching. Once at the counter, she saw a woman sitting quietly at the end of the bar, not too far from her. She looked strange, different, almost as if she didn't belong in here. That is, her golden hair was short and straight covering one side of her face more than the other. Big dark eyes fixed on the cooking fire showed no concern about being in a place such as this and her skin was considerably cleaner than the usual visitor; a trait that would set anyone aside from the start. As if that weren't enough, she was wearing light brown plate armor with a tint of yellow that not only looked spotless but also seemed to give out a small glow. Next to her was a young boy who was wearing nothing but a torn shirt and equally torn discolored pants and calmly drinking a pint of sweet honey ale.

"I wonder how you paid for that drink, dear boy. It's our finest, and if your let me say, you don't look like the kind who can appreciate honey ale". The tavern wench interrupted addressing the boy. "I paid for it and I have it" responded the boy sharply "tis none of your trouble to learn more".

The woman gave a slight scoff holding the smile and proceeded to take a sip of her own drink; a mix of fermented blackroot and goat milk.

"You see, I don't remember bringing you any honey ale. I recall the order was more like straight ale, and I also remember the chancellor over there" pointed at a corner where a man had fallen asleep in a twisted shape over the table "had ordered honey ale, but whadda ya know, he's holding the cheapest ale we have. Something of a mystery, wouldn't you say?"

"The drink was already paid and is not like he was gonna drink it. I figured I pay the due respect to the drink".

The tavern wench walked forwards and stretched her arm going for the boy's drink but she felt the chilling cold grasp of a chain glove holding her in place. The woman had her by the forearm and stopped her inches from her goal.

"What are ya doing?" asked the wench. "The drink was already paid for" said the woman in a soft but nerve-wrackingly firm tone. "To take it'd be stealing". "It's not his!" The woman yanked her arm out of the grip and rubbed her wrists, more from the cold steel than from the pain.

"What's your name good woman?" asked the plate-clad patron. "Dessa" answered the woman before breathing heavily out her nose as a sign of discontent. "Dear Dessa, I need to be unseen. Remain unseen; for as long as possible, and for that I believe you can help me" said the woman and then put a shiny gold coin on the table, more than a season's salary for Dessa. "Take it and continue serving your patrons as well as you're doing now". "I will, I will m'lady" replied Dessa and put the coin in her pocket faster than ever before and fled back to the counter where and already impatient tenant had waited too long for his drink.

"Thanks for that, but it wasn't really necessary. I had the situation under control" said the boy. "No you didn't that's why I stepped in. The last thing I want right now is a bar fight or to draw more attention to me". "Are you a spy? No, no…a mercenary…an assassin?" answered the boy as if there were a price for the right answer. "Nothing like that, but I do have my own reasons. I just paid for your drink so the least you could show me is a little respect and space". Said the woman a bit scoffed. "The drink was already paid for" was the response she got and it was true but she had already learned that there was no escaping the conversation so decided to talk back.

"Aren't you a little young to be drinking honey ale?" Asked the woman. "Now that I think about it, aren't you a little young to be in a place like this?" She was right. It was way past sundown and the bar was full of people the likes of whom she would not likely mess with, and here, next to her, was a small boy drinking ale. "I take offense in that, I may be young but I'm no boy. I am a man, by all accounts where I come from".

" You're a Halfling! I should'a known" replied the woman. "Yeah, I get the same reaction every time…poor tavern girls can't see the difference between an elf and a succubus if it was sucking her blood dry". The woman nodded and took another sip of her drink thinking she was fooled herself by the man's looks and wondered if that might have been the Halflings version of a double entendre.

"So, my Lady. What's your name?" The woman hesitated for a moment but then replied confidently. "Elhena" replied, pulling the mug away from her mouth to speak and immediately resuming.

Well Elhena, the name's Draki and here's to you and your lovely and timely reaction, said the Halfling before throwing back the entire drink and wiping his face with the back of his hand.


End file.
